


Precipice

by akaparalian



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Podfic Available, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:19:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaparalian/pseuds/akaparalian
Summary: Things go a little differently the first time Vegeta and Goku meet, and Vegeta ends up laying claim to something far more important than any mere planet.
Relationships: Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 64





	Precipice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_bad_poem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_bad_poem/gifts).



> a_bad_poem posted some dialogue and, like, the _concept_ of yandere!Vegeta in the KKVG week discord, and... well... I'm only human, so here we are. :'D
> 
>  **ETA:** podfic available [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675049), voiced by Dr_Fumbles_McStupid!

The battle is transcendent, an experience Vegeta could never have expected. He'd gone into it smugly amused and almost irritated, wondering why this little weakling, Raditz's third-class brother, was even bothering to challenge him, when surely he could tell that they were on entirely different playing fields. And then, as the battle had worn on, that irritation had faded and started to transform into something else, something entirely different. Every blow Kakarot managed to land, every attack he managed to dodge, prickled at the back of Vegeta's mind, and every time Vegeta sent him spiraling down to earth or crashing into stone made something ignite, demanding and lightning-sharp, at the base of his spine.

Every other combatant had been so much irritating background noise; Vegeta had dispatched them, one by one, without much care or attention. He only cared about one. Only Kakarot, who burned with brighter fury each time another one of his comrades fell, who never seemed to lose his stubborn belief that he would end up victorious, no matter how many times Vegeta threw him to the ground, no matter how many blows he absorbed, no matter how much of his blood splattered to the ground. Not even when Vegeta finally decides he's played with his food for long enough, and takes him by the throat, choking him for just long enough to watch his eyelids flutter closed before throwing him to the ground. Not even when he can no longer support himself, no longer stand back up, no longer even raise a hand to defend himself.

Not even when he is prone on the ground, completely at Vegeta's mercy. Not even when he can barely hold his eyes open, let alone muster the strength he would need to fight back.

He tries — he really does try, which is part of what's so damn _captivating_. Even now, even in this moment, Vegeta sees him trying to clench a fist, trying to gather himself enough to fire off an energy blast, trying desperately to convince himself that this isn't the end, that he hasn't been beaten, that, despite all the evidence, despite _everything,_ he will still come out of this victorious, as if he simply sees no other option.

It's _stunning_. And it's exactly what Vegeta has been looking for, all this time, without ever even really knowing it.

Kakarot manages to summon enough energy that it sparks at his fingertips, but he doesn't have the strength even to raise his arm, and anyway, the sparks fade away into nothingness a moment later. Vegeta smiles, feeling a certain pride at his indomitable spirit — they share Saiyan blood, after all — but casually kicks the offending hand further away, then steps down with just enough pressure that he feels Kakarot's wrist snap under his boot.

"It's too late," Vegeta murmurs, his voice half a croon as he kneels over Kakarot's body. There's a wet, coughing sound, but Kakarot either can't speak or thinks better of it; Vegeta pauses for just a second to give him an assessing look, then tips Kakarot's head back with the tip of one finger, watching the way his eyes roll with some satisfaction. He really is magnificent. It almost aches, to think of all this potential wasted out here in the middle of nowhere all these years, when he should have been right here, right where he is now: kneeling in the dirt at Vegeta's feet. "Don't you see? Isn't it obvious?"

Another feeble little coughing noise, wet with so very much blood — he'll be in the tanks for a while, but just _think_ of the boost he'll get; Vegeta's pulse is already racing at the thought — and Kakarot manages to shove himself up to one elbow, almost knocking Vegeta out of the way in the process. He glares, as much as anyone who is so battered and half-delirious with blood loss can glare. It's such a beautifully Saiyan expression, refusal to give up even in the face of utter defeat, even at the feet of a far superior opponent. Vegeta remembers, in a distant sort of way, hearing that Kakarot's father had attempted to lead a one-man assault on Frieza's forces even as the destruction of their homeworld was imminent; it had been the sort of thing whispered about very, very carefully outside of Frieza's earshot, a story about how crazy Saiyans really were, how Frieza had been right, after all, to put all those filthy monkeys down.

That refusal to give up, reflected up at him now through Kakarot's eyes, is beautiful, and all the more so because Vegeta feels absolutely unthreatened by it. He strokes a hand through Kakarot's hair, the movement almost gentle, a distinct counterpoint to every other thing his hands have done to Kakarot. Then, unable to stop himself, his fingers tighten until Kakarot's neck arches back, revealing the ring of bruises where Vegeta crushed his trachea, highlighting the blood coursing from his mouth, eyes, temples, the limp trembling of his limbs. He'd fought well, so well, and then he'd fallen. And he had fallen so, so beautifully.

"I've marked you," Vegeta says, and just to make the point even more clearly, he brushes the thumb of his free hand from the corner of Kakarot's mouth to the hinge of his jaw, putting just enough pressure behind it to leave a thin red line in his wake, beading up with fresh new blood that cuts through the rest of the filth. 

" _No,_ " Kakarot spits, and attempts to jerk his head away. He doesn't get far, but Vegeta is frankly impressed that he manages to get even one word out; it burns in his gut, that vicious thrill, the knowledge that he has found something truly, truly brilliant here, something worth keeping. 

"Oh, yes," he counters, laughing when Kakarot tries to jerk away again. His grip tightens, drawing Kakarot's neck into an even more dramatic arch, and Vegeta leans over him, bringing their faces closer and closer together. "I've marked you all over, _Kakarot_. You're mine now."

"No," Kakarot chokes out again, and then, miraculously, a third time, " _No_ ," but Vegeta hardly even hears, distracted by the hypnotic curve of that long, pale neck. After all, he reflects, there is one more mark he could leave, and why shouldn't he? Kakarot is going to be his in all the ways that matter, and he might as well have _all_ the marks to prove it. 

He ducks forward the final inch, using his grip in Kakarot's hair to pull his head to the side _just so_. Vegeta's eyes slip closed just as his teeth dig into Kakarot's neck, feeling the hot pulse of blood into his mouth as he digs in viciously. It's almost deliriously good, and made all the better by the high, choked-off sound that escapes Kakarot's mouth for just a moment, before trailing off into ragged breathing. 

This is — this is worlds better than anything Vegeta had come to Earth expecting. This is worlds apart from anything he's ever felt. The idea that he'd arrived on this planet with _Nappa_ , thinking he'd take some native relics and use them to his benefit, and now... Now he's found something so, so much better, so much more than he could ever have expected. Kakarot is unlike anything else he's ever seen; Vegeta has enjoyed taking him apart, but he'll enjoy honing him just as much, he thinks. Kakarot will become his ultimate weapon, his knife in the dark. And, most importantly, he will be Vegeta's — perfectly, gorgeously Vegeta's.

It's several long minutes before he releases Kakarot and sits back on his heels, wiping blood from his mouth absently and then licking the remainder from his lips. Kakarot, it seems, has finally slipped into unconsciousness. Good. Let him stay that way until he's ready to come out of the healing tanks; Vegeta has much to prepare for, much to plan, details already spinning through his mind even as he stands and gathers Kakarot's bulk into his arms, preparing to load him into a pod and get off this gods-forsaken rock for good.

He doesn't bother to turn and look back at the battlefield, the bodies strewn over the area or the massive scars in the face of the planet, craters and canyons where there hadn't been any before. None of that matters, after all; he doesn't actually care about this planet one way or the other, though he briefly considers destroying it just to cover his tracks. No, better to get Kakarot into a tank as soon as possible. There's only one thing that matters, only one thing this entire useless world had to offer, and Vegeta has him gripped tightly against his chest, marked so thoroughly that no one can ever mistake who he belongs to.

Fitting both of them in one pod is difficult, but Vegeta is hardly going to let go of him now. He settles Kakarot into the pod first, and then arranges himself amidst the limp tangle of his limbs, feeling a rush of vicious pleasure as he reclines against Kakarot's chest, feeling the shallow rattle of his breath through his entire body. 

Vegeta turns his head just enough to see the mark he'd left on Kakarot's neck, still bleeding freely; he'll bind it in a moment, he supposes, since it wouldn't do for Kakarot to bleed out before they get back to civilization, but for now, he watches it hungrily, baring his teeth in a wide grin without even realizing it.

"You are going to be _magnificent,"_ he says, half a croon, as the pod's hatch hisses shut, sealing them together.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](http://floralegia.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](http://twitter.com/akaparalian)!
> 
> Thanks to cobrasnaps for a super-speedy beta!


End file.
